Page 9 of Fortune’s Control (Fortune’s Creek #1)

Shane stiffened at the sound of his name. “Lilah?” He craned his neck to see me and frowned. “What are you doing here?”

He scooted over and tapped the space beside him, letting me know my presence wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

“Looking for family members.” I took the space to his right. The small bench’s lack of room caused my thigh to touch his, and the heat from his body radiated into me. “The librarian suggested checking here.”

“The librarian? Lainey sent you.” Shane stooped to rub his left calf.

The double headstone before us bore the name Wilcott along with the same date of death, well over eleven years ago. I did the math and wondered about his younger sister’s age.

“You’re visiting your parents.” That was a dumb opening. I thought of that big house, and of him alone in it. Its empty silence probably sounded like ghosts. “Will you tell me about them?”

“I come here sometimes to think. It’s peaceful. It’s rare to find anyone here but me.” There was that word again. Emma said I deserved it, and maybe he did, too. Shane swallowed back a laugh. “They were amazing parents. My dad was a lawyer and the mayor.”

“Mayor?”

“Sam Taggert took it on after they died,” he explained, nodding toward the gravestone. “Dad loved people, and the part-time job gave him a lot of opportunities to be around them. Sam has hinted I should run for the position a few times.”

“Will you?”

“No, oh no. Not going to happen.” He shook his head. “Not interested in that job.” I wondered at such an emphatic refusal based only on a few job hints. “They can find someone else who would enjoy it.”

I noticed the smaller first names on the double headstone. “You share the same first name. You’re a junior.”

“I’m a third.” He smiled sadly. “My grandfather was also Shane Wilcott. His headstone is that small chunk of half-buried rock.”

“And your mother?”

“Judy Wilcott. She worked part-time at the local school. Did you notice all the citrus trees planted around the house? Those were her doing. She even spent her summers outside.”

“You must have a lot of lovely memories.”

“More than I can count. What about you?”

“My parents?” I didn’t want to answer. There were plenty of positive memories, but more than I could count?

Shane noticed. His voice softened, losing its typical rough edge. “You aren’t obligated to answer Lilah.”

I could insert a horrible joke about married couples not keeping secrets from each other.

We’ve avoided that subject since the first night.

An annulment lay in our future, so there was no point in building something.

No reason for him to trust me, and no reason for me to share my problems. They were my struggles, not his, and I already owed him too much.

“It’s the reason I’m here now. In the cemetery, I mean, not the town.

The town, too. I mean both.” I huffed a breath and tried again.

“You know what I mean. I don’t know my father.

He could appear right in front of us.” I indicated the nearby space.

“I wouldn’t know him from any other stranger.

My mom said he’s some man, and that’s all she knows.

I’m not sure she cares. Yes, that sounds horrible, I know. ”

“That’s not the word I’d use. Unfair to you, perhaps, but not horrible.”

“My mother’s name is Sarah Jane Mayberry. What’s a polite way of explaining?” Was there one that didn’t make her sound awful or me ungrateful? “She was young when I was born, and didn’t enjoy every part of motherhood. Money was tight when I was little, and we struggled.”

Shane took my hand with both of his own, surprising me.

They were warm and calloused. One finger stroked the back of my hand, encouraging me.

I saw tanned skin and powerful hands that led to muscled arms and a broad chest. I’d been attracted to him from the moment we met, and one touch from him told me that initial feeling hadn’t faded.

If Shane were to kiss me, I’d let him. I’d put my hands under his shirt so they could roam and explore.

I swallowed back further explanations.

“The two of you aren’t close,” he guessed, and my revelry ended with the fantasy banished before it could form.

“No, we’re not. It’s one reason I came to Fortune’s Creek. I have a grandmother here, or I did. It’s why I went to the library. Lainey offered to pull old newspapers for me to look through. She may be in one of them.”

“Your maternal grandmother?” Shane read my expression and didn’t bother asking the obvious question. Why wouldn’t I ask my mother for that information? “She refused to tell you,” he guessed.

“I came here rather than beg for answers,” I said, blinking back any tears that might form.

His grip on me tightened. “There’s no one with that name on a headstone in this cemetery. If your grandmother lives here, we’ll find her.”

“We? Shane, that’s unnecessary. You’ve done enough. More than enough.” Despite my protests, his offer thrilled me, even as I worried about taking advantage of him.

“It’s already settled, so there’s no point in arguing.”

“Are you always this decisive?”

He didn’t hesitate. “To a fault.” I believed him. “Her last name differs from yours, which may be a problem. Fortune’s Creek is a small town with only so many suspects.”

“You make her sound like a criminal.”

He chuckled. “Unidentified target.”

“That doesn’t help.”

“The missing grandma.”

“Better.” I grinned, enjoying the sudden upbeat in my mood.

“We go down a list and check them off.”

“How do we do that? I don’t want to ask strangers about their teenage daughter who ran away. I’m new here, and that approach won’t win me any friends.”

“Lainey offered to help you?”

“Yes.”

“Then you have at least two.”

I was confused. “Lainey, and who else?”

“Me.”

He was my husband, not my friend. I ran away from my problems and created another one because I liked Shane. If we have more conversations like this one, my interest in him will evolve into a full-on crush.

Shane released my hand and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Do you have plans this afternoon?”

I dreaded it. “I thought about job hunting, but there probably isn’t much demand for accountants specializing in nonprofit work. Maybe I could open a cafe.”

“How about you skip all that instead?”

“And do what?”

“I’m helping Aiden redo his new store, and it’s time I get back. Come with me; that way, I can take you home later. It’ll be dark, and you don’t need to walk alone at night.”

“I borrowed the bike.”

Shane removed his arm. “Exactly. It’s nearby, so we can scoop it up later.” He scooted to the bench’s edge, putting both hands down to push himself up. “There’s no Mayberry here, so let’s resume the search tomorrow.”

He offered his hand, and I took it.

*****

Our fingers dangled together in a loose grip, palms barely touching. Our thighs touched back at the stone bench, but this was more intimate, communicating our comfort with each other. We weren’t strangers anymore.

We maintained a slow pace, allowing me to revisit the town. I once walked past the town sign, and it felt like stepping into another world. Live oaks covered in Spanish moss shaded us along the narrow road.

“This place deserves to be in its own coffee-table book,” I mused.

Shane glanced at both sides of the road and chuckled. “Why is that?”

“Look at that building. No place like it exists in the entire world.” I nodded toward it with my chin .

“That place? It’s a store, and they exist all over the world. That one contains supplies for fishermen.”

“You can accuse me of nostalgia, but I think it’s lovely. Gray wood, with piles of brick keeping the entire place upright.”

“So it doesn’t flood. There’s a creek behind it.”

I rolled my eyes. “There’s a painted sign on the front. I can’t read it.”

“It’s the original owner’s name. They died out a couple of generations ago.” I drew back, surprised, and Shane noticed. “Don’t be impressed. I know a few facts, but my sister is the historian. This town is her hobby. It was her hobby.”

“I’d like to meet her someday.”

“Someday.”

I didn’t push. Shane never used the word strained to describe their relationship, but it wasn’t needed.

“What’s that building? It looks like it’ll fall apart.

” It was a giant two-story house, with peeling gray paint, a caved-in roof, and a weed-covered lawn.

“That house has a story. Houses like that always come with a story.”

“It’s called the gray lady. Jack calls it the gray bitch, and it’s not a house. It was a wellness resort for rich people a long time ago.”

“Why does Jack call it that?”

“Because it’s not his.”

We left the decaying resort behind, as Fortune Creek’s downtown, all two blocks of it, took over.

My back itched. I reached behind, neck craning, and an odd sensation filled me.

“We’re here,” Shane announced.

He wanted to show off their work, but the adorable old-fashioned sign caught my attention first. “It’s like a barber pole. Please tell me he’s keeping it.”

“He’s keeping it.”

I glanced over my shoulder one more time, but saw nothing. Telling myself it was stress, I put my attention back on Shane.

No one knew I was here. Wilson Skane was not here. I gulped air and released it after counting to five. Detective Davis arrested him. His threats didn’t matter.

“Lilah, is something wrong?” Shane cupped my cheek, pulling so our eyes met. Concern shone in his.

Lingering fear did not mean he found me.

Fortune’s Creek was my oasis. I couldn’t forget that.

Shane also didn’t deserve my problems. “Please don’t laugh, because this sounds ridiculous.

Does your brain ever tell you there’s something there, even when you know it’s impossible?

Like a ghost image or a ghost presence?”

He drew back, face solemn. “I understand that very well, and I’m not laughing at you.”

I swallow. “I think someone is watching me.”

Wordlessly, Shane shoved, putting me between him and the wall with enough speed that it almost left me dizzy. “There’s no one here. The street is empty.”

He pulled me against him, despite the reassurance, as if to hide me from the world. Like he wanted to protect me from harm. Like he had that power.

On the stone bench, we were close enough to hint at his body heat. Here, enveloped in his arms, Shane was a furnace.

“I worry too much.” I escaped to Fortune’s Creek with the assumption of guaranteed safety, when that may not be true. There was also a difference between paranoia and warranted caution. It’s not so strange that I can’t tell them apart, considering a woman was murdered in front of me .

“Is that what it was?” Shane pulled back, robbing me of his warmth. He cupped my face and peered into my eyes like they were the key to all my secrets.

“You’ve given me enough, Shane. I’m not here to add to your problems.” That was inaccurate. He rescued my car, provided me with a place to live, a vacation, a phone, and a refuge, all while asking for nothing in return.

“You are not a problem, Lilah. Not to anyone, and especially not me, so banish that word right fucking now. You got it?” I nodded, unable to speak. “You can let me decide when we reach that point, but I’ll spoil that for you right now. It will not happen. Now, are you ready to go inside?”

Shane banished my worries with only a few words. Wilson Skane wasn’t here. The search for my grandmother would start anew tomorrow, and there was nothing for me but to enjoy this gorgeous afternoon with Shane. The man I married, who wasn’t really my husband.

“Provided you don’t expect work from me.”

“No work. Be prepared for Jack and Aiden to bicker.”

“No, they won’t, because they have you to direct them.”

Shane arched a brow. “You’re starting to know me, aren’t you?” He opened the door, waving me through. “Why don’t you come over and watch a movie with me tonight? You can pick.”

I allowed one last glance behind me on the way inside. “I would love that.”

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